


Under the Overgrowth

by Cakeleigh



Category: youtube - Fandom
Genre: Bunnies, Fighting, Friendship, Gen, Human, J’aime parler français, Kinda, Non-Human Humanoid Society, Not Septiplier, Not that I don’t like it I just hate romance, Tags will be added, This fic is terrible, Training, Violence, a bit of angst, a lots of angst actually, and he gets one don’t worry, floofy floofer, how does one tag?, it depends on what your definition of ‘angst’ is, jack just needs sleep, just scroll past it’s the responsible thing to do, mais mon français est merde, mark just needs a hug, overgrowth, precious bois, school fic, your guess is as good as mine as to why I’m tagging like this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2020-01-13 13:25:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18469867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cakeleigh/pseuds/Cakeleigh
Summary: It’s normal to have no experience in humanoid rabbit fighting, right? Most of us would say yes. But two ‘normal’ people would confidently say no. They, both, were very confident in humanoid rabbit fighting. They were so good at it that they could do it in their sleep! In-fact, they only do it in their sleep.But the skills still there, right?-this is my first ever posted fic and it is a mess, sorry in advance.-





	1. The Arena’s corner.

**Author's Note:**

> This is an Overgrowth fic, if you didn’t know already. Which is a game (both Mark and Jack have played (it’s really funny go check it out.)) about humanoid bunnies trying to kill each other with the best kick-ass moves ever. One thing though, it is trés gory. Like really, really gory. But not in a ‘blood everywhere way’, nah this game makes it really realistic. I’m not going to go into detail yet, but if you want to know what I’m talking about, check out the game, it will make more sense.
> 
> ~All that said, please enjoy~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little bun-bun and Floof-bun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a taster, as a result, allowing you to decide wether you want to continue with it or not, without having to read tons in the first chapter. The second chapter will be out with this to allow the people, who like it, to continue with a more plot-based concept.

Clashing of swords and war cries were the only thing a poor bunny, no more than 9, could hear. He couldn’t see. How could he ever in an isolated room which held no windows, but the small bars atop of a large wooden door? The rotting smell from said door made him think of a old dungeon. The ones his teachers had rambled on about in lessons. At that moment; he solemly regretted not paying attention to them.

He was confused, cold, and conflicted. On one side of his rapid mind he wanted to look out at the scene that was making such a loud noise. But on the other hand, he wanted to try and find away out. However; he didn’t remember how he ended up in this place, so how would he be able to find a way out? 

Consequently; he decided to try and take a peek.

Moving was foreign for him, to his confusion. He even ended up falling over several times. In the end; he did, in fact, manage to clime to the bars and look out.

Nothing.

He just saw a big circle-like arena of some sorts. Nobody was in it. And nobody seemed to be exiting it. He pondered where the loud noises were coming from but noted that it wasn’t the clashing or battle cries he had heard before. It was like a shrill cheering but much, much louder than anything the small kit(1) had heard before.

He was so confused. He didn’t know what to do. So he just dropped down and walked backwards. He didn’t know where to go. Much less what to do.

A shuffle brought him out of his panicked thoughts. It was so quiet compared to the shrieks, but so different it was impossible not to hear. And same went for what made the noise.

Soft grey fur covering a small shaking entity. He had to take a double take when he noticed some red line-like features. Was it blood? The small bunny, no more than 9, had never been a whiteness to mass amounts of blood so, of course, he had no clue what it would look like. 

Ignoring all his instincts telling him to stay away from this unknown entity, he moved closer. This… fluff ball (actually there was so much fur the little kit decided floof would describe it better.) was definitely alive. And possibly hurt. And the little kit was always taught to be kind and caring, so who was he to know better?

The approach was carful, foreign almost. But The Floof didn’t seem to notice, actually, I didn’t seem to do anything but shake. Maybe it wasn’t even alive? Maybe the little kit, no older then 9, was just being imaginative?

However, once he got closer he found that The Floof was just like him, with his long ears, a stubby nose, some cute whiskers, a stubby tai, some padded paws and all that kind of stuff. The Floof was just like him. A kit, no more than 9.

His body was curved into itself as his shaky paws clutched over his face in a weak attempt to shut out everything. It was crushing for the other small kit, even if he didn’t grasp the seriousness of the situation.

The short furred, smaller kit, no more than 9, noticed, once again, the red. But at this distance he noticed that it wasn’t in-fact blood. At least, he thought it wasn’t. It was so intricately placed on the floofy kit’s body, so distinct yet soft. It ran down his body like a restless river.

Now, the kit wasn’t dumb. He know vibrant red was definitely not a natural colour in hair. Well, you do get close to it sometimes, however, it’s not The Floof’s kind of red. His red was potent, unnatural. Even poppies couldn’t reach this state of red. So he found himself wondering just how. How did the floofy kit get that colour of red imprinted into his floof?

And then it stemmed from there.

How did the floofy kit get into such a rough state?

How long had the floofy kit been here?

What even is the ‘here’?

How long had he been there?

Was he being held captive?

What time was it? 

How could he get home?

Could he even make it home?

Where was the floofy kit’s home?

Is his mum worrying?

Is he going to get grounded? Again? (Totally the dog’s fault.)

What was happening outside?

What is happening in here?

What is going to happen?

The last one was very quickly answered, as the two kits, no more than 9, found out. Seán reminds himself to smack himself in the head for tempting fate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Kit is actually the word for a baby bunny. I mean, I knew that a fox baby is called a kit too (I learnt it from some Naruto fics, need I say anymore?) but I was genuinely surprised to find that it also applied to a baby bunny too.
> 
> Also, I know I said ‘mum’ instead of ‘mom’ and that’s because I’m English. And as every English person has said “Your opinion is wrong, and our culture is superior” (That’s a joke, I’m actually very contaminated with American culture because of my exposure to YouTube.)


	2. The Arena.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They just really want to go home.

It was the sudden fizzy-ness of a headache that made him loose track of reality and it was the silhouetted of a tall-standing bunny, knife still in their hand, that brought him back. And though the knife hadn’t made contact with his skin, he really didn’t want to find out if it would.

So he ran. And by God did he run. He scrambled for the first quarter of the (about) 300 meter spherical arena, then sprinted the next 225 meters. He was met with a wall, no different from all the other walls. There was a big gate, but alas, it acted as a wall.

These were all bad, but nothing, nothing, would be compared to the shrill of encouragement coming from the crowed. To the poor kit, it sounded as if a laugh track had been turned up a thousand pitches and just left on full volume, on repeat. It was almost like they were getting enjoyment out of the small kit’s terror and attempted escape. Or maybe it was directed at the other kit.

At that thought Seán turned to the floofy kit. And he almost wished he didn’t. They were curled up in a corner with the a big bunny kicking the life out of him. It scared him. 

All of this scared him. And he was perfectly justified in his reaction. Because it was scary. It was scary for the kits. It was scary for the bunnies forced into slavery and forced to fight for their lives, even against kits. It was even scary for some of the audience, though a minority, because they signed up for some entertainment, not some young kits being dragged into an unfair fight and beaten to a pulp.

But it went on. And Seán, or the floofy Kit, or the fighter bunnies, or the minority in the crowd couldn’t stop it. Or didn’t. So it went on.

 

After what seemed like forever, Seán and the floofy kit were put back into their cell. Gently, Seán noticed. But that was probably because the guards felt sorry for them. He couldn’t put together why, but in the end, he didn’t care.

Seán wasn’t that bad, with a shallow cut on his upper-right arm and a forming black eye (though hard to see under his fur, but the swelling was obvious.). He was fast, he had noticed, much faster than his attacker. It was the floofy kit who had it bad, with swelling all over his chest and lower body area (he imagined it was very bruised.) and small-to-large cuts littering his whole body. The most noticeable being the one which ran from this left front side to his back, it wasn’t too deep, but it was definitely going to leave a mark.

A clattering made Seán realise that he had been staring at the floofy bunny for a while but also it made him realise of the entity that caused the clattering. 

Behind him, in-front of the door, led an innocent platter of cloth and some liquid container thingies. He assumed it was water. Seán a curious kit, no older than 9, and naturally went over to check it out, though on shaky legs. On his venture he turned to look to see if the floofy kit had had any sort of reaction and the answer was no. No, he hadn’t even moved an inch. Which was worrying, but not unexpected.

It was weird, the platter. The tray was made out of wood and the cloths were ripped and scratchy, but clean, and the containers were made out of some sort of leather. It reminded the small kit of the medieval times, where they had to make make-shift unhygienic products. But it was something.

He jittered back to the floofy bunny, hazardously making the platter shake, but at least trying to be careful. Once he got to the floofy bunny he kneeled down and put down the platter.

And he didn’t know what to do. Should he just start cleaning the kit? Or ask permission? And he had no medical experience (as most 9 year olds don’t.) so he didn’t even know where to start. Isn’t there that thing you put on wounds? The stuff that really stings? But Seán realised that even if they were somehow given that stuff, he had no clue what to do or how much to put on. It was hopeless.

Hopelessness… was never really a thing Seán had felt before. He was always an optimistic child, but this was something else. Something different which is making him confused with all these negative emotions swirling round. And though hopelessness has never occurred to him, it was extremely easy to understand what it was. It wasn’t an unidentifiable thing that didn’t make sense. It made sense and it hurt. But not physically, it was hurting deep inside which brought the small kit to the edge of tears.

But the small kit swallowed the big lump in his throat and forced himself to focus on the floofy kit. He just had to do something. Each option a risk, so it wasn’t a matter of avoiding problems, it was just which one would have the better option.

“Want some water?” Simple, and straight forward. Something the floofy kit could respond to. And Seán didn’t miss the shakiness of his voice, or how his eyes ran along the lines of the poor kit’s cuts.

But either the floofy kit didn’t hear, or didn’t care, because his shaking stopped for half a second before curling in closer to himself.

It failed. Not that Seán had much hope that it would work, but it was still disappointing. Never the less, he still couldn’t do nothing, so he went with option one and just wetted the cloth (it was water in the container, he noted.) and started dabbing some cuts.

And that reaction was actually better than expected. Even though the small kit had no clue what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t no resistance. The floofy kit just sat there, shaking. Quivering as if he was just dumped into the North Pole with nothing as clothing. But Seán couldn’t tell if that was due to the room being cold or the fact that the poor kit was scared. Maybe both. Probably both.

But he kept on dabbing very gently, as if the skin would flake off with every touch. It didn’t. But it felt like it to the floofy kit. For him, it was agonising. But he was too scared to move. He just wanted to go home. And so did Seán.

 

It didn’t actually take that long before Seán hoped he was done and everything was at least clean. He knew he couldn’t do much, but he had to do something. Luckily he had managed to leave getting blood near the water container itself, since he didn’t use that much of it, considering he needed a damp cloth not wet one, and only used excess water for cleaning the cloth. So they could have a drink. And even though he failed the first attempt of talking to him, now he could try again.

“You should really drink some water if you want to get better faster.” The statement was calm, careful. As if Seán was walking on a rotten wooden beam, only being held up by crusty string, 400 feet in the air. And to his surprise, he got a tad bit of movement that wasn’t shaking or curling further into themselves. It was a slight rise on posture with a peek of their eye through their toe-beans. And Seán had a sudden realisation. He had never actually seen the floofy kit’s face. He held these big chocolate eyes that looked on the verge of crying. Not only that but the red markings, The vibrant ones, streamed down from his eyes and connected gradually by the time you got to his mouth. The vibrant red also went out in a small circle heading to his nose, but didn’t reach even a quarter of the way there. It was… very reflecting on the current situation. It resembled sadness.

And if he thought those eyes couldn’t get even bigger, he was wrong. Because as soon as the floofy kit’s eyes looked at the water container and then at him, they cried. As if Seán was the trigger to bringing up all that had happened to him before that moment.

Seán started to panic. This was definitely a bad outcome. But before he could finish that thought he was suddenly enveloped in a hasty hug, desperate for some kind of comfort. Then it turned into a strong lock-cased embrace where the floofy kit, no older than 9, seemingly thought that wallowing into the smaller kit’s chest and squeezing him to make him stay would make everything go away. Or at least fix the situation for them. 

Seán wouldn’t take this away from him. He obviously wasn’t in the best place, and really, he wanted a hug anyway. So they stayed there, the floofy kit only quieting down when they gradually passed out. Seán corrected the other kit’s posture by laying him down on the floor, he also made sure to do a one-over with the wounds, to make sure he didn’t make them bleed more or something. Which, didn’t seem to be the case, so that was good. So he led down too. He just wanted to go home.

So, they ended up laying there. Two kits, no older than 9, hoping that this was just a weird nightmare or something.

 

With a scream Seán shot up from his bed and tangled sheets. There was sweat running down his temple as the kid, no older than 9, wept from the hollow terror of his dream.

There was a loud, rhythmic thumping before his bedroom door shot open and his mum was all but throwing herself by her son’s side. The panic was evident on her face, but it seemed to cool down a bit when she noticed he wasn’t seemingly hurt.

“Is everything alright?!” Again, the panic was evident but this time there was also concern lacing her voice. Seán couldn’t make a coherent sentence as he grabbed his mother and held on as if she wasn’t actually real, but he wanted her to be. In response, she just held him close and rubbed circles into his back. She guessed it was a nightmare. The evidence being he showed distress, but no physical injuries. She hated having to deal with nightmares. With her children, that is, she didn’t really have any nightmares anymore. But to a child, it can become everything to them for a period of time. It causes so many problems. And it’s even worse when it’s re-occurring. Then the child holds terror of the nightmares yet to come, when it would be so much easier to say that it’s not real and won’t ever happen again, it would be lying. And it’s a double edged sword. It hurts her, and it hurts them. Nightmares were horrible. 

But little did she know the extent of this nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it’s weird and inception-y but it will make sense!... well, it will become clearer, but will it make sense? Probably not.


	3. Le clash clash Oof.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it starting to make sense? No? Understandable.

With a whimper a small child, no more than 9, slowly arose out of his drowsy state, though still in immense distress. Instead of getting up, he curled further in on himself. He didn’t want to feel the pain so he thought it was safe just staying down and even though he was under a warm, heavy blanket, he shivered as if his body had been dumped in ice. And, to be honest, though his body was warm and clean and healthy, his mind was frozen with raw fear. Reality only just seemed to condensate on the surface, not fully getting through. He was scared. 

His body had also decided to comply with his current emotions and started to cry. A small sound, at the start, but it evolved as memories uncovered. It eventually became a gasps of air. It eventually became short chokes of a voice. It eventually became loud sobbing. And it got to the peak of its journey with the eventual sorrowful wailing. 

He was still scared.

And like a steady drum, heavy steps made their way to his door. There was a moment of hesitation, but eventually a figure poked their head in the room to look around. All the while the small child was still wailing, taking no notice of the movement. 

“Mark?” The figure asked while slowly approaching the bed. She wasn’t surprised to get no answer as the child was still pre-occupied. So, in response, she gently kneeled at the side of the bed and held Marks hair in a reassuring way. 

When she didn’t get any reactions, she slowly started to stroke his hair and shush him slowly. She didn’t want to rush anything, from experience, she knew that could have very bad effects. So all her actions were calm and thoughtful. 

Eventually, it seemed to work a little. As wails became coughs and sobs to snifferling and hiccups. It was then she decided to try again.

“Mark?” The words were so soft it might’ve actually had a chance to achieve world peace. Fortunately, it worked, but not to what she was expecting. She expected acknowledgement, maybe a hug. But as her son looked up at her she saw unfamiliarity in his eyes. He just sat there for a seconds seemingly doing nothing. His eyes quickly moved from her face to her hair, almost like he was looking for something.

But before she could worry, he finally seemed to find himself and realise who it was. And almost instantly she was enveloped into a tight hug. 

And they stayed like that. Mark held onto his mother for an impressive amount of time before passing out. To this his mother thought the questions could wait as he was very distressed and could always answer them at breakfast anyway.

 

This time, there was nothing. Mark was not conscious in any way. His subconscious just floated in nothing. Though he was still distressed, in this state he didn’t have to deal with any kind of feelings.

He preferred it like this.

 

Seemingly, in no time at all, Mark woke up. And luckily, he didn’t end up crying. In fact, he took a while to remember his dream and when he did it didn’t seem as bad now. Actually, this was probably due to not experiencing much of anything but pain, which didn’t last once the dream had ended. He was still shaken, but he decided to try to forget it and go and eat something.

His mother was eagerly awaiting his arrival, having specially pre-made pancakes for him. To say Mark was pleasantly surprised is an understatement, he was relieved. 

His mother said a quick hello, to which he replied in a nod, and he sat down while bringing the pancakes closer to him. He had no hesitation as he dug into his food, successfully forgetting what happened the night prior.

His mother gave him time to eat before she made a move. Which seemingly did him good, as he looked very content afterwards. 

“You had a nightmare last night, right?” She started slowly, trying to be cautious.

And like the stupid 9 year old he is he looked up innocently with syrup round his mouth, oblivious. His mother couldn’t help but let out a laugh, what was she gonna do with this kid?

She reached over a counter to get some wipes and handed them to him. This gave him the message as he started cleaning his face and said a quick thank you.

A little after he seemed to have a realisation of the nights events. And like clockwork, he face saddened. However he still seemed hold life in his eyes.  
The action was subtle, but his mother caught the glimpse of a nod. That was enough for her, so with a sigh she leant down and held her son in a tight embrace. 

To be totally honest she thought he was gonna cry again, but to her surprise all he did was hold back. She wondered wether it would be better if she didn’t say anything about it from then on, it was only a nightmare after all. But either way she had to sooth him somehow. So after the embrace she kept him at arms length, intently staring into his eyes.

“You are so strong. You know that?” She spoke softly but firmly, trying to really convey a message to him. He just responded by staring at her, his eyes seemed to sadden, as if he didn’t believe what she said. And she took that as a challenge. “You are so strong to be able to get through the whole night. And you are so strong to still be here. And you are so strong to still be by me while you feel sad, ok?” At the end of her statement she couldn’t help the little waver of sadness. She knew there was going to be a time he wouldn’t go to her for comfort, and the thought deeply saddened her. But it wasn’t like she could do anything about that, since it was in the future. So she would just have to make up for it now and always be there for her son.

At the end of the statement he didn’t seemed to fazed by the words. Just let a small smile onto his lips and gave another nod. It was enough to calm the mother’s worries, so she gave a mutual smile and another small hug. 

That seemed as if that would be the end of that, but as she started to clean some dishes Mark asked such a bizarre question she had to stop and contemplate reality for a few seconds.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” His mother’s voice held nothing but pure confusion, and that emotion clearly plastered itself on her face as she stared at her still-seated child.

“Why do some bunnies have green fur?” The voice that uttered the words were so innocent with pure curiosity that she had to seriously contemplate if he was messing with her. And after a still few seconds of nothing, Mark changed his posture and tried to elaborate. “Not like the whole bunny, just, like- I don’t know? The top of their head?”

“Bunnies, don’t have green… fur.” Her voice was a lot more clear than her brain was currently. But to the response Mark cocked his head and looked puzzled. 

“Oh, ok…” Whatever he was thinking about, he wasn’t going continue to talk about it. And to his Mother, the subject didn’t seem to be that concerning so she let him be. 

The day crawled on, and everything seemed fine. Well, until she got a phone call from the school that mark had fainted.

 

“Why is it that they created so much power by their mere hands?” A dark voice echoed along the broken hallways. No light in sight except for the small candle at the foot of the wall. “Was it because they wanted power? Maybe they just wanted their life to be easier?” The voice held a scratching to it, but it was not from the being itself. “Did they all want this power? Or was it created by he selfishness of the righteous?” A metal blade moved from the muzzle through the eye socket and out the forehead. Grinding at a different rhythm to the movements of the their face, creating a new song in the process. “I can ask all these questions but I’ll never find the answer, will I?” The head moved sideways, locking eyes with a quivering mutt hunched in on itself, on the other side of the room. 

“P-please… I don’t know I don’t know!” The mutt cried for his please to be heard. They were. But they were not heeded. The other dog’s eyes narrowed, as a result the blade moved down through his head, like a loose tendon, and reached lower into his mouth.

“Why would I ask you an impossible question if I wanted an answer?” His face held still, no emotion was at play within it. On the other hand, the Mutt’s face became impossibly more horrified as he held his mouth open in a silent scream. His body was wracked with tremors and his eyes started to pour down. 

His silence was his downfall.

In an instant his throat’s insides made contact with the cool but humid air. There was no emotion as the jugular was the only thing connecting the ripped of flesh to the rest of the body. But with a rather violent tug to the side, it detached with the rest. The mutt’s arteries were free to spurt in any direction. The flesh in the dog’s mouth was rubbing across the blunted blade within the top of his mouth, making the blade move.

But the dog didn’t care, by now he was used to it. It was part of his body at this point, a constant reminder that the emotions he ‘felt’ were misconceptions of his past self. He was scientifically incapable of what he used to be able to do. But that thought never seemed to make him sad.

The body was led down, lifeless but gushing blood. That would stop in a short while, so it doesn’t matter. And with a yawn of exhaustion, he straightened his posture and started to walk to the exit. He made to spit out the useless flesh in his mouth before he actually got outside. 

Not that that would’ve made a difference, though. Everyone knew that this dog was dangerous, he didn’t actually need to kill anyone to give hat message off.

 

It seemed that the horrid rancid stuffiness of the cell was an experience Mark and Jack just had to get used to. Oh and pain. Constant white noise and a big red fucking light blearing into his eyes at the same time. The pain didn’t disappear or change as he led there, so it became the norm, but it was the only thing Mark could think of. 

But his musing didn’t alert him to why he was woken up. Fortunately, or unfortunately, Seán did manage to see what woke them up. 

It was a loud harsh banging on the cell door, as a grotty voice spat words he couldn’t understand. It was clear to him it was another language, and not a European one. He had no clue what they were saying but it was getting louder and harsher and more distorted and more prominent. 

Before he knew, he was hyperventilating and walking back to the opposite side of the door. The shouting didn’t stop, if anything it was getting more frustrating.

Seán didn’t remember how he got there, he just remembered being at home and then poof. He was here again. He remembered his last experience clear as day, but he thought that was the last of it. Obviously, he was wrong. But he had no clue just how wrong he was.

With a sudden slam and a huff, the noise stopped. And Seán could hear the voice, though just as angry, walk away somewhere. 

He didn’t move until he couldn’t hear even the breath of whoever that was, but when he did move, he realised he had no clue what just happened or what to do.

Why was he back here? Was the main question sprinting through his mind, but no matter what he thought of, he couldn’t find an answer. However, he did suddenly remember the bunny who accompanies him in this cell, and his eyes flew down to meet a very familiar shaking body.

The scenario was very familiar to him, but now he knew what to do. And with a subtle boost of confidence, he slowly crept down to The Floof and checked his body. Trying very quickly to see anymore bleeding of wounds before moving forward. He kneeled down by The Floof’s head and checked his state.

Awake and distressed. This didn’t surprise Seán, the feeling was mutual in this scenario. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t concerned, so he needed to do something… which is easier said than done. He didn’t have an icebreaker like last time, so improvising it is!

“You ok there?” Seán made his voice soft and calm. As hard as that was. And, unlike last time, The Floof gave an almost instant reaction.

His head twitched up to look at Seán, and his paws lowered from his face. Instantly he realised who it was and moved forward for an embrace.

“Green bunnies… not real but… c-cool” The voice, which had been the first time Seán had heard it, was potent but quiet, soft but meaningful. And Seán had to make sure he had heard correctly before continuing. 

“Uh, ok dude. But are you ok?” He still kept his voice soft but he couldn’t help the confusion in it. And The floof only gave a slight movement before shaking his head.

“I-it hurts. So much” The Floof’s voice began to break, as if he was about to start crying.

“Whe-“

With a loud slam the cell door opened up and a wide silhouette stood in it’s place. Non of the Kits could give a reaction before the pompous figure marched in and grabbed Seán by the scruff and yanked him away from the other kit. Now The Floof had definitely started crying, but instead of moving back, or curling into himself, he reached out desperately, trying to regain the comfort.

In the mean time, Seán let out a high scream as he was dragged out the cell. The grip of his scruff was beyond painful and it felt as it the back of his neck was being torn off. He was kicking his legs furiously and he grabbed the arm that had him captive. The figure, who also seemed to be a bunny due to it’s long ears, was slurring in that language he couldn’t understand. 

His mind was beyond panicking, he was fully flailing, with his body twisting in the air, as his throat turned sour. But nothing budged, the hand on his scruff held tight.

Another door was slammed open and Seán felt his body be lifted in the air before being thrown to the wall of the new room.

He had barley opened his eyes before another being, which looked like a scruffy dog, grabbed his arm and hoisted his body up. The dog was looking him up and down, like he was assessing him.

“Gāo pǐnzhí. Xìng jiāoyì?” The dog gruffly spoke, slobber clearly drooping down his muzzle. 

“Bù, tā hěn kuài. Tā huì táotuō. Zhè jiāng shì làngfèi.” The bunny spoke this time, still slurring and unconcerned, cocky almost. And yet Seán still couldn’t understand any of what they were saying. 

The dog looked at the other bunny and gave a short nod, like they were agreeing on something. 

“Hái yǒu lìng yīgè ne?” The grasp on Seán’s arm seemed to soften as the dog talked, like he was uninterested in him now.

“Wánquán méi yòng. Tài pòsǔnle, bù hǎo mài. Méiyǒu shú huí de tèzhì, zhǐshì ràng tā sǐ zài jìngjì chǎng shàng. Huò zài gāisǐ de fǔlàn láofáng zhōng.” Now it was the bunnies turn to talk, and when he did, his anger was obvious. His hands waved in the air as he almost-shouted. His face scrunched up in anger and disgust as he stubbornly sat down in a chair. 

When his rant thankfully ended, the dog gave a pause, like he was contemplating what the other had said. But after a second he let out a sigh and bowed his head.

“Chǐrǔ. Dànshì rúguǒ tā zhēn de shì wúyòng de, nà jiù méiyǒu rènhé shōuhuò. Jìxù.” At the Dog’s response the bunny grew satisfied and started to get up. He looked at Seán and gave what could only be described as a snort, while making a ‘follow’ motion with his paw.

At that moment, the tightness around his arm let go and he felt a push forward. Too terrified to say anything, and still having no clue what’s going on, he proceeded forward.

The big bunny gave no words as Seán crept behind him, they seemed to be going back to the cell and Seán was thankful he wasn’t being dragged by the scruff like last time.

 

It was still cold, and still damp. But now Mark had no one to get comfort from. The only person he could trust not to try and kill him was just yanked out of the room. And it’s not like he could follow them, the door had been forcefully shut even before he could even get up. So, even though it hurt like hell, he stretched himself to look out of the bars atop the door. 

Nothing. Just a hallway and the arena. No life as far as he can see. Which was weird since there always seemed to be someone screaming. Nothing. Just a hallway and the arena. No life as far as he can see. Which was weird since there always seemed to be someone screaming. But no, almost silence. 

 

He had never felt so hopeless before. He thought that he’ll never see him again, cuz who know what they’re doing to him? Torture? It was an actual possibility. Just killing him? Also a very possible possibility. And yet Mark could do nothing. The pain was still so immense, and yet his mind screamed at him for being useless.

So he just dropped down, and slowly walked back. It was hopeless, what could a little kit like him do?

A very sudden fuzziness overcame his body as his legs grew weak and began to sway, with his posture following suit. His skin felt cold as ice and the back of his throat became dry, and in a second, he felt his body collapse.

But he didn’t feel it hit the floor, rather he felt a light tap on his head.


	4. Le Oof Oof clash

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, fighting. And the ‘It’ is the dog thing, it’s confusing.

With a jolt, Mark snapped his eyes open and met the soft sight of his mother gazing down at him. She held a concerned face, with her eyes looking watery. But when she realised he had finally awoken, her face instantly brightened, with colour returning to it and making her almost glow as a result. However, her eyes seemed to only become more watery.

“Oh my god, Mark!” She leant down and embraced him in a tightly, but in a flash of concern she let go and muttered a small sorry. “God, Mark.” His mother almost choked on her words as they came out. “I was so worried, everyone was!” With the explanation she got up and started to pace round the room. “You were totally unresponsive to anything! But you showed no signs of injury or suffocation! All the school could do was wait, then a lot of time went by and you were still unresponsive! So they decided to call an ambulance but they found nothing! They said it could possibly be something like Encephalitis that caused the coma but they needed to do more tests! They said you might’ve had severe brain-“

While his mother rambled over and over, Mark was out of it. He could barely take in anything that was happening. All that occupied his mind was panic for the other bunny. He still felt hopeless and before he could even say anything to anyone, his eyes started to water.

“-ray to he-“ His mother’s rambling was cut off by the sudden opening of a door and a doctor came rushing in. Well, he was rushing until he saw that Mark was awake. 

“He’s awake?” The doctor’s voice was stern and sharp, but had a genuinely confused tone. And when he emerged out of his shock his head snapped to Mark’s mother. “When did he wake up?! And why didn’t you tell anyone!” With the sentence he rushed to Mark’s side and started checking his vitals.

“U-uh about a minute a go, he literally just woke up” The doctor seemed to ignore her physically as he continued on, which made Mark’s mother frown a bit.

“Mark can you hear me?” The Doctor’s question was aimed at him and it only just seemed to make it through the fog of Mark’s mind. He gave a little, shy nod and made eye contact with the doctor. This was a good sign and the Doctor gave a little smile in response.

After the vitals were checked (hastily Mark’s mother noticed) the Doctor launched up and turned to look at the mother. 

“Please, can you stay here and make sure to see if he does anything abnormal, and if he does; please quickly get a nearby nurse or doctor. And when I say abnormal, I mean even the subtlest thing!” He then bolted towards the door. “I’ll only be a few minuets before I come back with some doctors to then we’ll go from there.” and before anyone knew it, he was gone.

Mark’s mother, now more panicked than before, rushed down to her son’s side and stared to stroke his hair gently. Though the action was probably to calm her more so than her son.

And, though still melancholy, Mark seemed to be coming back to reality. He now realised he was in a hospital, and he was in a bed. He had no clue how he got there but he knew his mother was here with him. So it wasn’t that bad.

 

Hours. Actual hours passed filled with a constant barrage of questions and touching. Several doctors were by his bed at any one time, and his mother had been told to wait outside while this was going on. And there were several X-rays done, which were really intimidating for Mark, but he plowed through it.

And at the end of it all he was sat in his hospital bed with his mother at his side, and a few doctors in the room. Most were preoccupied with writing or checking things, but one stood at the foot of the bed and looked at the mother-and-son duo.

“We’ve found nothing. Which is an good sign.” At the statement Mark’s mother smiled and looked as if she was about to cry. “-but that leaves us with the problem that we don’t know what caused the comatose. People don’t normally fall into a fully unresponsive coma. But since you have no flu-like symptoms, behaviour abnormalities etc, we’ve decided to let you be for the time being. We want you stay in the hospital for at least a few days and if nothing happens then you are free to go home.” This wasn’t the best news Mark or his mother could hear, but it was far from the worst. “And we will be having a routine check-up with strict sleeping times, while you’re in the hospital. This is to make sure nothing is wrong.” the main doctor looked round at the other doctors and nurses for a second before gazing at Mark’s mother. “Mrs Fischbach, May I have a word?” At the request, the mother looked a little surprised but they uttered a quick yes and walked out the room with the doctor. 

“May I confirm that when Mark woke up, he woke up suddenly by jolting?” Mark’s mother was taken aback by the sudden question, but she answered it confidently.

“Yes. I was just beside him as his whole body jolted and his eyes shot open.” She uttered the statement with a frown. “Is that concerning, Doctor?” The was a beat of silent before the doctor looked down, seemingly deep in thought.

“No. No, not fully concerning, definitely after the what the tests showed. Just peculiar.” He looked back up into her eyes and spoke very softly. “You don’t need to worry now, it’s all done for the moment. But take my advice, continue to look out for health conditions. Though unlikely, this could be a progressive thing, so just keep an eye out.” With his last statement he put his hand on her shoulder and gave a warm smile.

The contact really grounded her mental state. The situation became much nicer now that the panic was gone. But subconsciously she knew that would be over once she got the hospital bill. 

 

The door to the cell opened with the flick of the big bunny’s hand and Seán was shoved in. The action caught him off-guard and he stumbled in before twirling round, but landing on his feet. His flailing manage to get a gruff laugh from the bunny before the door was slammed shut.

At that moment Seán just seemed to notice how dark the cell could get when it was dark outside. However, through the darkness he could still turn round and clearly see the outline of his cell mate. He would’ve thought he was just sleeping, but the position that he was in said otherwise. His whole body was laying flat with his face smooshed on the floor.

Without much thought Jack raced over to the kit, but before he could even crouch down, he felt a very strong fuzziness. Within seconds he couldn’t feel anything and his body fell limp over the other bunny. Though Jack couldn’t feel the fall or even hear it, he still could see the body he had fallen on and he really hoped that he wasn’t dead, cuz that would be awkward.

 

“SEÁN MCLOUGHLIN WAKE UP!!!” A very, very loud and frustrated voice shouted. And Seán just managed to stop himself from leaping out of his bed. Rather he shot up and braced himself at the head of his bed. His brain was panicked because he still thought he was in danger. Still in that arena cell. Still near people who wanted to kill him. 

The owner of the voice was non other than his mother, and when she saw the panic his face she instantly felt regret. “Sorry Jacky-boi, But you’re actually already 10 minutes late for school and I needed to get you up.” When he didn’t respond, he didn’t even flinch, she grew concerned and slowly walked closer. “Seán?” Her voice was now very soft, and her movements were delicate. 

There wasn’t any initial reaction, Seán’s mother could clearly see a cloudiness slowly fade from the child’s eyes. Though the cloud was still thick, and Seán looked up to his mother and his eyes began to pour.

“I-is he dead??” The voice that said those words were too small, yet too heartfelt. It’s almost was almost like a small river after a storm. 

But Seán’s mother Instantly knew what it was. A nightmare.

“No, honey. It’s not real, they’re not real. I’m real, and I’m here.” Her voice was soft, but it had now became a little annoyed due to the unrealistic reaction of Seán to his dreams. “Nothing is going to hurt you, and who ever you saw in your dreams isn’t real.” By the time Seán had taken in her words, he looked even worse. His mother wanted to cradle him and tell him it’s ok, but she knew that he would probably forget it in about 30 minutes. So there was no time for sympathy.

On the other hand, Jack’s mind had settled and he knew where he was, but his mind was anywhere but here. “T-the bunny- it- wh- I-“ the voice still sounded confused, but all it did was make his mother more frustrated.

“Now is not the TIME Seán! You need to get up now and I’ll drive you in.” With a huff, she turned around and started to walk out of his room. “And any consequences are on you!” 

With the slam of a door he was left alone, once again. 

With nothing to do that could help the kit, he solemnly got up and got ready. It took twice as long, and he had still not stopped crying by the end. He just wanted to make sure the kit was ok.

 

That night, though day for Seán, and night for mark, both kits arose slowly out of a state of drowsiness. 

To much of Mark’s surprise, and pain, he found that there was a heavy weight on his body. It was warm and fluffy, and the only real thing making it uncomfortable was the fact that it was hurting his already sore cuts. So with a squeak of effort he tried to lift his body, and the other’s presumably body.

Even though he didn’t completely emerge out below the mass, he wasn’t surprised to find his cell-mate as the culprit of the weight. With his time in the cell, he’s grown to appreciate this friendly presence with him in this experience. But with this thought he realised that he didn’t even know his name. Though, thinking about it, he’s never really had the time to ask.

There was a small whine from the kit above him and some subtle movements. The action made a shot of burning pain go through Mark’s body, which resulted in a half scream, half gutters choke.

The deep drowsy state of Seán very quickly subsided as it felt as if his ears was being slip open by the sudden sound. His actions were quick and frantic as he leaped to his feet and looked around. And it was a swift kick to Seán’s leg that alerted him to the withering kit on the ground, glaring daggers into his head and curling in on himself. 

Unlike the last times, he instantly knew what was going on and immediately bent down and put a paw on the Floof’s shoulder. “Oh my gosh! I- wait, I’m so- I- I can’t, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry!” His voice was frantic and shameful as he checked the kit’s body.

The kit just whimpered and curled tighter, and Seán realised that some of his cuts were bleeding again.

Thinking fast, Seán swept up the old, bloody cloth and put it onto the bleeding part. He still had no clue what he was doing when it comes to first aid, but he still tried. 

Mark appreciated it as best he could through all the pain he was experiencing, and he tried to acknowledge it was an accident, or at least he thought it was.

Though the two kits unanimously agreed, when the cell door slammed open, that they really needed to get used to playing this twisted jail game.

 

They both dreaded the fighting, and the arena, but both of them didn’t realise how scary it really was until they were back in the circle. But this time, there were no fighters ready to kill them, instead they were alone with the shrill of the crowd. But it wasn’t like they could do anything, there was no escape. Only waiting for the inevitable.

However, behind one of the doors, to the arena, the fat bunny and a strong looking dog stood. The dog’s stature was tall and wide, with his body equipped with some armour. He looked on to the door with what could be best described as delight. The bunny, however, seemed preoccupied with checking his claws for dirt.

“Look mutt, there’s gonna be two kits out there, which won’t be a problem for you to kill, but that’s not the point. One is battered beyond repair, so kill him however you like, but leave the other one.” The bunny’s voice sounded condescending and bored, but the way he talked was like he had a job to do. “Not that you can’t see which one I want you to kill, but just in case, kill the grey one. The one with the vibrant blood hair. And leave the other. Got it?” His voice rose in volume at the end, showing that there was no arguing to be done

“ I got you loud…and clear.” The dog’s mouth curled up into a psychopathic grin. With the confirmation, the doors started to open slowly. “It’s never the same when you kill an adult. No fun, no prize, no satisfaction. But a kit? Well, lets just xǐhuān tīngdào jiān jiào shēng” The dog’s voice grasped as the sun shone into his eyes. And right in front of him, we’re his targets. So without even a second though, he sprinted towards them, claws at the ready.

Seán and Mark had spotted the dog as soon as the doors had opened. It’s face was filled with glee as it looked at the two kits as it’s next meal. And who knew, maybe they were? But the two kits would rather not think of that.

Seán was gone by the time it had just opened, running away, but Mark was hurt, he couldn’t run if he tried. So he held his ground. But by ‘held his ground’ meant he fell on his ass and scrambled back.

It leaped into the air, using all of its legs for power, and opened its mouth preparing to bite. In a last effort of instinct, Mark lifted his leg up and smashed his food right into It’s mouth, protecting his own neck. 

Mark expected his foot to be gone, but no. It didn’t only just hold the middle of his foot in it’s maw, but it seemingly smiled. Almost as if it wanted this.

Before mark could even try and get his foot back, It snapped its head to the side, making Mark’s body follow it. And then to the opposite side, again dragging Mark’s body. His body felt as if it was burning as it scraped across the rocky ground.

But then the motion repeated, Mark’s foot still locked firmly between it’s teeth. But as it continued the speed became more frantic and It started dragging his body back. Left. Right. Left, right, left, right left right left.

Mark could almost feel the exact moment he felt his ankle detach from the connecting bone, but he screamed anyway. The sound was basically a shrill, guttural at parts, but innocent all together. But that didn’t stop it, but it did make it smile, and Mark could feel the movements.

With a jolt, the movements stopped and his leg was released. There was no flesh wounds but he knew something had happened within it. 

There was a soft thud next to the both of them as a bloodied pebble had fallen to the side. Though it didn’t distract mark as he frantically scrambled back, out of reach of It. 

But Seán had nailed it right on the nose with that pebble. So he was slightly proud. Sadly that was short lasted as a deep and angry growl racked its way out of It.

Thinking fast, Seán turned and ran, adopting his first tactic he used, and the most useful so far. But, unlike the last time, It gave a chase, and a good chase. Seán had only ran 10 meters before he could feel the pound of 4 paws behind him. But he couldn’t look back, or it would all end.

He had to run. Run faster. Run faster. Don’t die!

At the sudden thought his mind gave him a quick answer in his mother’s voice. “It’s not real.”

Of course it wasn’t real! He didn’t had to run, he couldn’t die of something that wasn’t real! So in the spur of the moment he decided to stop with a skid and run towards It.

But in the same moment, like clockwork, It had decided to leap at Seán, all claws out and mouth open.

But it was too late. Seán sank down as he slid and It overshot and flew over the kit, just skimming the tops of his ears. In a sudden realistic fear, Seán decided he was gonna still run as fucking fast as he could. Maybe he could just ignore his mother’s advice for a day or so?

While It fell on his face and It’s body rolled over itself. Seán decided to adopt It’s tactic and start running on all fours. It wasn’t the best time to try this out but he might die if he didn’t run fast enough.

It’s body was still rolling in a heap as Seán started to sprint. The run was wobbly and he smacked his face on the floor a few times but he soon realised that moving his hind legs together would be the best way to produce power and keep him stable. Even then, he would still hit his face on the floor a few times.

It was finally getting back up from it’s embarrassing fall and it’s eyes landed on the kit trying, and failing, to run away. Seán heard a howl behind him as he tried to stable his running. And then the beat of paws again. But this time it felt like a drum. A very deep and powerful drum.

With the pressure of the oncoming threat and him smacking his head against the ground every now and then, he finally realised that he needed to move his front legs in order to keep the front of his body up and make a rhythm for the back legs.

And just like that he started to speed off. It was almost like magic, but it was more of the fact that instincts were giving him a helping hand. The beats behind him started to get quieter and quieter until he heard them stop suddenly.

Which isn’t what usually happens, so he decided to make a sudden stop by slamming his hind legs onto the side and drifting to a stop. Facing his attacker, he saw the his eyes were not on himself anymore, but on the other little kit trying to keep himself up by the wall.

The kit hadn’t noticed yet, rather he was focusing on his basically unresponsive, limp foot. But when he did, it was already too late.

Another scream erupted from the floofy kit’s mouth as his right arm was viciously snatched in It’s maw and a paw was crushed into the kit’s face. Then It started to tug again, pushing the floofy kit’s face against the wall and leaving him immobile as he withered and screamed.

Jack didn’t have much time to think before he started to sprint to the attacker. His movements were still new but Seán had never been so determined. He had to do something, this was the only person, in this god forsaken place, that was there for him. All he had to do was run. Run to It. Just run. Just run.

It still had Mark’s arm is his mouth as a powerful blow was dealt to his body and he was thrown to the side. It fell to the ground, winded and stunned. 

Mark had fallen to the ground, out of It’s grasp, but still dragged by it. He tied his best to move back, but he couldn’t move his foot and he was dizzy and his arm was profoundly bleeding.

But Seán was In, probably, the best shape compared to the two others. All he had was a little headache where he had full-on tackled the large beast to the ground in an effort to save his friends. And he now had an opportunity.

Seán leaped up onto Its chest and started scratching. Anywhere he could that wasn’t protected by armour. 

He managed to give It a large gash from his eye to his mouth before he got a reaction. Said reaction being the dog wail a battle cry as he jolted up and went to grasp Seán’s ears.

The grip was painfully tight, and his ears were already sensitive. His throat ripped out a scream before he even knew it, and he was flung harshly to the side.

It was a good pregnant few seconds before Seán’s body hit the rocky floor and started to roll. 

It didn’t care about what It had been told by the fat bunny anymore, it just wanted to hear that fucking kit scream again. So, with what could only be best described as a roar, he scrambled up and began to run for the green haired rabbit again.

Seán had barely stopped before he felt a harsh kick to his stomach, and he was off rolling again. The kick had most likely dislodged something, but it was the roll which had been the most painful. His whole body had felt like a blistering inferno rotating just below his skin, but he didn’t have enough time to really take it in as he heard the foot steps behind him once again.

With little though, Seán got on his two feet and leaped up into the air. But It had been far enough away to react and started to stop.

The kit jumped tremendously high, but with no destination in mind. And that was his downfall.

There was a moist opening noise near him before It’s mouth had managed to catch the kit’s body within It’s maw and it closed. 

Even though the bite itself wasn’t that hard, the already damaged insides made the contact feel as if he was gonna be split in half. But Seán couldn’t even scream before It crouched down and started to shake his head violently.

Seán felt as if his insides had become a milkshake from the movement. But he could barely recognise reality due to the shaking.

Then was a moment of weightlessness as his body was thrown up like a rag doll. But then he started to descend.

With a crunch his body hit the ground with the added weight of It’s paw. That did make Seán scream. The scream was so loud he thought he was going to make himself deaf, but that wasn’t the case. What was the case was that It had began to grin wickedly again.

When Seán’s voice became silent, but his scream was still there, It put it’s paw to the kit’s neck and pressed down.

It was terrifying. Everything about this was terrifying, even more-so than before. Seán could barely take it. He could barely think. He could barely do anything. He was going to die. 

Because it was real, they all thought. Everything was real here. To Mark, to Seán, but mostly to The Dog. However, all of them share the same goal. Survive. The Dog wanted to have fun in this life, that was why he was doing what he was. And yet Mark and Seán we’re fighting for their life. So they couldn’t just give up. This would never be the end.

With whatever Seán had left, he aimed his feet to The Dog’s throat and, with precision and power, he kicked. The kick was so out of the blue and strong that The Dog couldn’t help but stumble back and choke.

Seán had made a quick promise to himself to never take oxygen for granted from them on. So with a gulp of fresh air, he scrambled up and walked backwards. There was still pain, still that blistering inferno, but he needed to survive.

It was a solid few seconds before he noticed that The Dog wasn’t getting up. In fact he was crouched in on himself and shaking.

Then there was a shallow cough, then another one. Then there was a pitiful suck in of air, said air obviously not going anywhere. Then there was another few coughs. Then there was a frantic attempt to breathe. 

It obviously failed. As The Dog fell to the floor and gasped and rasped and coughed and choked.

It was Seán’s opportunity. It was his opportunity to survive. Not only his, but the other kit’s too. It was finally coming to an end, the torture.

So with a quick turn, he ran. He ran towards Mark. He ran while ignoring the silence. He ignored the fat bunny running into the arena and going to help The Dog. He ignored the sudden shrill of yells and cries. He ignored the things that were being thrown at him. 

But he didn’t ignore the floofy kit.

And he didn’t ignore the fact that they won. And so with that win, came hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, yes that is Chinese. The only reason it goes from English to Chinese is because Seán and Mark see him at that point, and they have no clue what he’s saying. Same went for the chapter, before this, when you had that one dog, with the metal thingy, in the shrine.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve already said this, but please give me the worst feed back ever, be the cruelest person you can with this, I really need to improve.
> 
> ~Hope you enjoyed, see you next chapter.~


End file.
